


Hi(story)

by orphan_account



Category: Motorsport RPF, RPF - Fandom, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Dreams, Gossip, Inspired by Real Events, Jealousy, M/M, Mistakes, Open to Interpretation, Relationship(s), Secrets, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:29:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 5,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8444128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sebson ficlets working different aspects over the years.





	1. 2007 - Playground

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have nothing against any person involved on this fanfic, it's just for the sake of the story. I only write the things I wish someone could come to me saying "it's true" or I could discover by myself it's true. 
> 
> PS: The previous chapters you read may have new details as I update. New chapters may surface.

Pouty lips, innocence overflowing.

Nobody had the power to make Jenson stutter, except for the new teenager walking around. He didn't know much. Claimed he liked the Finns, but talked, joked and even behaved sometimes as British. Had the "Michael trinity" as idols. The next big thing.

The carefree spirit wanted to be attached to that mouth, body and...wait.

Wasn't he _straight_?

"Mate?". A thick australian accent brought Jense back to the ground. Slightly shaking the head both sides, the retort is simple. "Hmm?"

"You're not being what we call discret".

Jenson sighed. Just like he suspected.


	2. 2008 - Playboy

Briatore did put a imaginary warning across him, like a champion's sash. "Lazy playboy"

Jacques also encouraged pretty much everybody to think, allegedly, that wasn't the cut for a F1 driver.

Still, how a plain short conversation was renting Seb's thoughts for so long? He remembered of every single detail. Every flex from his face's muscles, the way his eyes subtly popped out, a kind of unbreakable calm.

The earphones were connected, volume to the maximum, whilst a melodic tone invaded the ears.

"Hello, hello  
_I don't know why you say goodbye,  
I say hello."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Goodbye by The Beatles. Written by John Lennon and Sir Paul McCartney. (C) 1967 Parlophone (UK) and Capitol (US).


	3. 2008 - Play, boy

Rolling aside the sheets, the possibility of sweet dreams were remote. Heated night in Monaco, blackout on the block, discharged cell phone resting on the writing desk.

On the verge of another race. The most important circuit, vibrations on the car, laps, Sebastian on his lap... oh, no.

Focus.

It ain't that easy when one of your pals has related that "his oral game is so good he spent some seconds crying afterwards".

You still don't know if he was joking by the way he cracked up, as he drank.

"Just a rumour, just a rum...". Just a reality he'd adore to confirm, along with his team signing with the youngster. Last one discarded, unfortunately.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, in a quick search on Wiki, I found out Heikki Kovalainen wasn't the only possibility for McLaren in 2008. One of them was Sebastian. 
> 
> *sighs while imaging how many extra sebson moments would we have*


	4. 2009 - Addictions

"You don't need..." Jenson began, internally praying for self-control. Otherwise, Seb's clothes would be off right there on the hotel hallway. 

Without a single inhibition left, he guided the older's hands, putting them around his waist. "I want it". 

The briton had his head spinning over the answer, finally grabbing his hotel card. Slamming the door, while they glued into each other, he finds relevance in asking. "How old are you?".

Undoing Jenson's baggy jeans, he reveals mere twenty-two years. Without asking for a ID, the Englishman trusted his words, urging to thrust inside his mouth too.

Like a feline in heat, Seb's knees meet the ground, cheeks brushes over the reason of many of his wet dreams. He pulls out, impressed by how it looks. Uncut, proeminent veins, pulsating because of _him_. 

Trying to calculate how a few words got them on such situation, Sebastian senses his own lips tingling, mouth watering and just opens up, completly submitted. 

Surprised, he slids in, holding the blonde hair for dear life. Neck going back and forth, Jenson is cupping Seb's hand to show his intimate preferences, fingers already glistening. 

Wrapping his considerable small hand around the lenght, Sebastian shows multitasking skills by stroking the burnt part of his ass at the same time he french kisses his balls, sending an acute pain through Jenson's body. 

Moaning in response, the younger's instinct just feel right, he's blowing one of most sensual men alive. If not the hottest on the grid. It massages his ego, but not as great as Jenson's slit tickles the beggining of his esophagus.

Usually people are around the Englishman, begging the most different sort of things, but the protegée gives a dose of his own medicine.

"Oh yeah, make me come"

Seb had tried many luxurious drinks, yet, the best tasting dripped only when stimulated to the edge. 

(At least funny. The moment he less gave a fuck about women and relationships, also became the very moment the world championship approached.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this news' date and some paragraphys: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/formulaone/article-1173760/Button-burn-Red-hot-Jenson-drive-life-outwit-Hamilton-Bahrain.html. All rights reserved to Daily Mail.


	5. 2010, part I - Crash

You may take a long time to realize you screwed up. 

For Sebastian, it only took millisseconds to recognize it. A bump, and suddenly a front wing flew, his own steering wheel gained a independent life, tyres skirting...and embarrassingly he drives to the opposite side, to get back to racing, leaving Jenson's expectations on dust. 

To relieve blame, every single moment the memory came, he repeated to himself it was Lewis the one accidentaly kicked out. Bullshit. 

After the interview wall, fixing himself with a quick shower inside the motorhome, the destination was a personal apology. Part of him had the "stupid" word rolling over and over across synapisis, the other part repeated louder.

"Come in, the door is open". 

He walks in, with his guard down. 

"Oh, Sebastian". 

Ouch. The full name. Besides imagining he would come to dialogue, he didn't expect such agility. 

Figuring it out how to start, nothing comes out.

"I'm sorry, I was too nervous, since we started to go together and...". Jenson nodded, apparently not convinced. Sebastian was currently a nervous wreck, he damn sure knew it'd probably end there because of that confession. 

Ocasionally Norbert warned him about "women who would take off his focus". A man, not in a million years he'd picture...

Moving towards him, their lips met, tourtorously languid. The acceptance came before he pronounced anything. 

"Be careful next time". 

Some things worth more than a bi-championship. A Heppenheim born and raised, for example.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the SPA 2010 crash.


	6. 2010, part II - Burn

End of season, high decibels outside. An australian, a British and a German. 

Two mouths exploring his whole body, four hands caressing in different places to praise his notable accomplishments. 

Stamina. Pheromones. Sweat. Screams. 

Two cocks, one buried inside, the another one to stop the kiddo from moaning. Both coming on the youngest face at the same time, then dragging their members across the bright cheeks, to savour. 

Sebastian just swallowed, thirsty for fluids.

Their triple kiss exchange all types of aftertaste.


	7. 2011, part I - Montreal

All circunstances led to expected it'd be long. But, goddamn, who would tell? 

Seb matched the weather: shut down. He managed to still look good, confirming a previous confession of being a bad loser.

For a moment, he desired the existence of two first places, just to see the guy smiling. Tough luck. 

(...)

Matter of choice to begin the post-race press conference briefly looking at your colleague's lap. 

The official interviewer noticed, for the third or fourth time, two drivers doing synchonized movements. To be professional or to send indirect questions? That is the question. 

Plus, Sebastian labeled himself as "disappointed", yet, his sincere smile wasn't incompatible with the related emotion.

The inherithed dominance manifested up in a simple descrition over the past events. "Eventually on the last lap I was chasing down Seb, he ran a little bit wide on the wet part of the circuit and I was able to take the opportunity and take the win". 

Did he get anxious again, commiting a error, costing one more victory? Definitely he would use the moment to sour some of his merit.

"It was quite easy to him to pass", Sebastian, in a salty mood, lets out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Sebastian's final mistake and post-race press conference at the 2011's Canadian Grand Prix.


	8. 2011, part II - Mon très aux

If Sebastian was looking for trouble, he was willing to the right path.

Patiently waiting until they were at a camera-free zone after the hotel elevator, Jens is holding him by the chin, making a abundantely explicit point.

"Quite easy to pass you, but not easy as _you_ , your little slut."

Hanging the perfect ocasion by the teeth, his head is tilted enough to grab the most chubby finger between his pearly whites. Giving a exhibtion of thumb sucking, using his lips as canvas for the transparent liquid.

Melting away in such a sight to see, Jenson leads, removing the spit wet fingertips and interlacing their hands.

"Come over here".

Obligating Sebastian to open the room, he does so. Hands behind the neck, and away they go. Kissing Jen's freckles, Seb is no longer holding on over how horny he is, even racing for four hours, energy remained to bottom for four days straight.

Telling which side he gets, the older murmurs, gasping.

"Take off your clothes and lie down".

Compliant at the task, he undresses, lied down on his stomach. Jen's bulge is violently slapping against the jeans as he crawls up the bed, kissing all over Seb's nude spine, turning his pressing lips into a perfect-o.

Their body smells like champagne and sweat, shower could stay on hold.

When Jense bites the curve of Sebastian's ass, he looses it. It's not like he hasn't been eaten out before, but with so much enthusiasm, he wants it to last forever, pushing Jenson's face further and looking back at it.

"What else you like?", Jenson heavenly exhales after minutes licking him all over, face gleaming with saliva.

Striking a slap on his ass, Sebastian squirmed. He revives the act, smacking it harder.

Allowing to be bossed around, the question is music to the German's ears. "Tell me where you want me".

Kneeling up, the younger gets on all fours, spreading the buttcheeks.

Freeing himself from the overalls, his hard cock is aching to do whatever that earns yelps out of the 23-years old man. "Suck it".

Dedicating long moments to it, Seb does what he does best after driving skills, getting Jenson helplessly smiling towards the view. Popping out, dick trickling after the best oral he ever received.

To find some relief as his lover starts to drill, Sebastian drags nails on Jenson's lower back. The pace at first is peaceful. Slowly, it begins to be brutal, two fingers within that filthy mouth, tensing every time Jenson reached a point until that moment unknown for him, not far from owning that body.

"Whose is it, Seb?"

"It's... it's yours, bitte!", he libidinously sobs, struggling to handle Jenson's strength invading him.

Flipping him over, Jenson lifts both of Seb's legs, ankles resting on his shoulder blades. When Jenson slobbers his own fingers, soothing his entrance, then pulls in again, Sebastian yearns, so far gone.

"Come on my face".

Groaning with the preference, he greedily accepts the wish.

"I'll come whenever you want me to, babe".

Eyelids together, a warmth washes over the younger's face, while in contrast to the bittersweet edible, a pinkish tongue shares it in a rough kiss.


	9. 2011, part III - Endorsement

They don't remember who recommended who before sign the contract to that "big-enterprise-with-lots-of-products-in-different-countries".

The certain remaining is the moment in process is sincere.

Jenson is the one unpeeling the clothes first, in silence. A rush of coldness runs over the thin structure, due to the previous rain. Once he strips down everything, he lifts up Sebastian from the edge of the bed where he was sitting.

Not resisting to the beautiful undressed man right in front of him, he affectuosly pets his stomach. A grin spread through both faces. Imitating what he just watched, Seb frees himself from the apparels, cotton colored pieces falling with a soft noise on the floor.

Sharing a sweet kiss, Jense takes him by the hand, heading to the bathroom. In the way, the younger finds to silly excuse to grab the older one's arse, squeezing it playfully.

"Oi!", He complained. The goofiness only makes them laugh even more. The night only accentated the intimacy between the drivers.

Turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature, Jenson first tests if the hotness is bearable. Since it's comfortable, they step together, almost in a heartbeat.

Opening the cap, the British is massaging Sebastian's scalp with the same product the corporation got them representing. It was not "without tears formula" like the competitor, so he unhurriedly asked.

"Close your eyes"

Jense's magic fingers work against Seb's sensitive skin. It's viscerally profound the exchange, but the German shuts down his thoughts, trusting every single pore in Jenson's care. Every single soothing sensation is replicated.

Love and warmth took over, clear as the element bathing them. Hugging the soaked body, the warm water servs its course, then bubbles down the drain.

Switching it off, Jenson rolls him in a long towel, smelling the fresh hair, having Sebastian doing the same thing for him. Overflowing in awareness, they do not talk much, still redeeming from the internal tsunami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the fact they did commercials for a shampoo brand specialized in... uh... dandruff, pretty much at the same period.


	10. 2012, in reverse - Sing your pure heart out

Butterflies flapping their tiny wings inside of his stomach. He just wanted to yell "happiness" whilst the cameras flashed.

Full of confidence, the observation caught him by surprise while they eat at a hidden yet comfy place. 

"You and I could have some freaking beautiful children, huh?". A eyebrow lifts. "A girl can help us with the task".

"Yeah", Sebastian pointed out, mocking the uneducated ways. "But they will eat with their mouth shut".

He kissed the red cheek, intentionally marking it with sauce.

"Banter". 

The city mirrors reveals emotional eyes, while Jenson imagines Sebbi preparing them to school, teaching german, feeding them, watching their father-to-be dubbing a car. A pleasant future.

Even the journalists went suspicious after that night in Singapore, the photos, the "I'm going to show you around like the boyfriend (?) you're" body languages.

Perhaps, they were right in doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian lent his cute voice to Sebastian Schnell, a character on Cars 2, but only in the German version.
> 
> Inspired by some of these pictures: http://www.motorsport.com/f1/photo/main-gallery/jenson-button-mclaren-and-sebastian-vettel-red-bull-racing-leave-the-stewards-office-aft-6/?&i=166299&id=1464321&sz=8&s=-6. All rights reserved to Motorsport.


	11. 2012, in reverse - Spa

Spa: a destination or a sensation inside so many clothes?

Also, what could compare to the happiness of having his best friend and his best (and only) lover at the same place to wash away the home grand prix confusion? 

Even if meaning second place to him...

He swooshes a gleaming "Congratulations" to the brit, friendly tapping the rib. A million dollar smile is the comeback. 

From public whispers to (soon) whisper sweet nothings to the same person later. 

It's all about timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the podium of that race, the cooldown room and those pictures below. All rights reserved to FOM and Octane Photographic Ltd. 
> 
> http://octanephotos.co.uk/2012/09/2012-belgium-f1-gp-race/#photo/11/


	12. 2012, in reverse - Home?

Inside the pre-podium room, things started to pre-heat. Jenson, trying to get impressed with Seb's attitude in taking a shortcut to the celebration, gave the news.

"They are going to investigate your overtake, by the way." 

Reflecting about his own following answer, he needed time to clarify. "Sorry?". 

Jenson babbles for a few seconds but pick up the slack as quickly, repeating the same thing. 

"I didn't know whether you were inside or not, that's why I went out there".

As they walked together, apologies were made. Seb acknowledged that going with the four wheels outwards was an error. Jenson comprehended he just wanted to avoid an old scenario. 

Fernando, a truly believer of how energies influenced the whole universe, felt by the conversation something was obscure. Of course having someone contorning a rule to earn a position was a distressing situation. Yet, even attemping to verbalize to Mark later, words were missing. 

" _Cariño_ , they were low key arguing... but it looked like us, a couple". 

Changing subjects, Mark dismissed the observation, subsequently coughing. 

"You know how the kid is difficult".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the 2012's German Grand Prix.


	13. 2013, part I - Malaysia

Sebi's phone buzzed in the universe that became his backpack, not a single thing properly organized. Opening, he searches, finally distinguishing it from the other itens.

1 new message from Jenson.

Smiling to the touchcreen, much of the same he does during a videocall, he impatiently interprets.

_I'm part of the Driver's Association_

He types back, agile as a silver bullet.

_We're going to work together?!_

Consequence of the cause he joined it, Jense reaffirms.

_Yeah, we are_

Dancing around himself on the garage, Horner was convinced his bubbling personality summarized in one word formed with six letters, and it wasn't "winner".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this news' date. http://www.autosport.com/news/report.php/id/106247. All rights reserved to Autosport.


	14. 2013, part II - Malaysia (on fire)

"You took his side, right?" Webber rages, shoving the balaclava on the floor, fireproof clothes as well. 

Standing for himself, there isn't much to state. 

"Mate, this is wicked. You both are special to me".

Knowing the words wouldn't serve much, he wishes a better mood out of the boiling anger at the moment. It'd probably match useless to go talk with Sebastian now. 

Jenson leaves Mark's room, wiping his mouth after so much isotonic. 

A misunderstanding, when Sebastian leaves his room, going to the elevator in the opposite side, not crossing ways. He sees behind the back, although isn't seen, refusing to accuse Jense of something.

Fury drafts inside his pupils. 

Chasing inside the racetracks, all right. But what if that involved his boyfriend...boyfriend? He wanted to punch anything that could move in front of him, specially Mark. Forgetting about anything he would do at the ground-floor, he locks himself back at the dormitory.

Oh, the pillow. 

The same object where he muffled every single sound Jenson have made him expel. The same one he striked until got tired.

A changed man, willing to skipping rope with other's heartstrings.


	15. 2013, part III - Home?

In a recent round of advising with the team, Christian H took the bat, saying it was "common sense to not mix pleasure and business".

Sebastian scratches his hair, pretending he doesn't see who walks in the left side, knowing the show must go, at least on the damn circus.

For the first time, he desired to exchange with the destiny, all the trophies, the glory, everything, to be socially acceptable.

A photographer flicks the paradoxal scenario, without imagine the iconity of the registered moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this image's date and its content: http://br.motorsport.com/f1/photo/main-gallery/da-esquerda-para-direita-sebastian-vettel-red-bull-racing-com-jessica-michibata-e-o/


	16. 2013, part IV - Brazil

Bass pumped inside of the nightclub, a indigo sky painted the modern town. Seb connects two individuals, almost unheard.

"This is Hanna. Hanna, this is Jenson"

Hesitating in labeling her, Jense kissed her on the face, picking up the first adjetive in mind. "Your girl..."

"...Friend, I told you about her".

The woman gained his sympathy instantaneously.

Sebastian, during a previous converstion, told he met a girl on high school and they became extremely close since then. Which can be the one they've been searching since children became the topic of the union.

Who would foresee, the king of gentlemen, intimidated by a lady's beauty?

(...)

The scenario was a paradisiac Rio. Young and bold, kissing the man that has his heart in a silver plate.

"Ah, Seb", he takes time to moan, beautifully drooling while disrobing him from the skinny jeans.

Hardening at each mild touch, he approaches back to the smooches. Just the way he loved it: harsh, plenty of tongue and teeth.

Parked at a uninhabited zone, the maximum it would happen, maybe some x-rated videos made by paparazzi. The risk made the teenager even hornier.

"Fuck my mouth until you come."

Driven by his directions, he shoves back into Jenson's mouth, raising his hips from the passenger backseat. The windows are open, it's Jenson, _fucking_ Jenson, wrapping his delicious lips around it, kissing the slightly bluish head, bobbing faster and his cheeks getting deeper dimples.

Seb, willing to be tenaciously strong, can't help but giving his body at Jenson's mercy.

Reaching the furthest inside the briton, it takes a few minutes to make him drink it up.

Clawing the short nails on the back of Jense's neck, he shivers, lavishly mesmerized. Pale thighs quivering against each other.

"What about me solving this?", Seb suggests, caressing his boner with the back of his hand.

Kissing the wet forehead, Jenson states, truly ruined. "Today you're the main attraction." 

(...)

He leaves the oniric reign when it's morning, raindrops tapping the window. Sebastian wakes up soaked in his own perspiration, dialing the room service for some cold water.

Hanna sleepily asks, in a sigh. "Something is wrong?"

Blurred, he says an "obrigado" to the hotel worker, closing the entryway. From then on, drinks the most as he can.

"Just brazilian heat", he laughs.


	17. 2013, part V - Brazil (the hidden version)

_"And if you give me what I want ~~championships~~_  
_Then I'll give you what you like ~~my body~~ "_

Memoirs from last night.

Too involved with Hanna's entertaining conversation, Jenson stays there, drinks easily flowing. Sebastian needs to leave for a moment for the bathroom.

Entering the cubicle, walls covered in blue plus low lights illuminating. The ambience starts to distract him, until he notices Mark leaving one of the individual urinals. His heart race increases by instinct, it's more than usual when involves the biggest rival on the track.

As he uses it and gets out to wash his hands, he's still there.

To be more specific, he's there, kind of blocking the door. You doesn't give much attention at first sight, but after using the soap, some water and get finished, you need to eventually cross the same door you used to get in. Interested in breaking the ice with vocabulary, the younger indulges.

"So... enjoying the party so far?"

A suave smile spreads across the older's cheeks, with subtle sexiness.

"Mate, skip the small talk, you're awful at this one..."

Goosebumps spreaded throughout the white arms, as Mark caressed Sebastian's neck and shoulder blade, in smooth movements. The aussie's thumb moved up and down his Adam's apple. If someone else did such thing, he would bet his cards he was about to be choked.

"I will miss you, kid."

Lost in the sensations a single touch caused him, he mutters, almost like a sacred secret.

"Me too, Mark, me too..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give You What You Like, by Avril Lavigne. Written by Avril Lavigne, Chad Kroeger, David Hodges. (C) 2015 Epic Records.


	18. 2013, part VI - Gift and Curse

The after Christmas left everybody satisfied and fatter. If someone put the couple at the top of the Swiss Alpes, they would roll like two lazy dorks. And if someone thought they would be done at that morning, they were mistaken.

The onboard plan constited on pancakes filled with hazelnut cream with strawberry milkshake.

If Mikey Muscles and Heikki only knew...

Singing some questionable music while doing his best, Sebastian tossed the ingredients inside, turning on the blender without a care

"Sebastian", he subtly pokes his elbow, intentioning to ask about how he prefered his pancakes. Risking some booty shake, the melody overflows him.

Since his body blocked the home appliance buttons, Jens may as well go for the wall socket, unplugging it. Believing they ran out of energy, he notices the radio is still on. Jenson is with crossed arms, close to the plug. "Hey!"

"I want to know how do you want your pancakes."

"Oh. You can let them fluffly. Sorry, I didn't hear you."

He pecks the bottom lip, as they approximate. "Sure you didn't, your noisy thing."

They vouraciosly eat, slurping and having the most outrageous behavior. Then, the duo fell asleep again.

(...)

It's late night and while Jenson answered a couple of e-mails, Seb was catching a random program on TV.

He looked at the display showing "Michael", vibrating until almost falling off the table. Genuinely smiling, he goes to Jenson.

"Someone wants to prank me thinking I don't have his number."

Picking up, he chooses the first idiom. "Hallo?"

A few minutes on the phone talking in German and Sebastian hangs up, astonished. This better be the worst joke he ever heard in life.

"It... it was Corinna."

Sebastian explains with the coldest tone. Transformed into a expressionless man, Jenson momentaneously thinks he has an alibi in his spooks. However he never, in almost six years, saw him this way.

Over his geography lessons, he learned the Earth spin around itself and the Sun. But for now, it completely stopped.

"He suffered a ski accident. She said Michael can die any minute."

From a dream life to a simple realization: his untouchable hero was made of blood, bones and flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #keepfightingmichael


	19. 2014, part I - End

Death always comes in threes, they say.

Jenson trembled, embraced on Sebastian's arms, weeping the endlessly tears falling from his eyes. Swollen face, stubborn nose running. His biggest fan wouldn't be watching him in this plan, forever. The word meaning "till the end of time", never had been used in such a destructive context. 

"I'm so sorry, _meine Liebe_ , I'm sorry...", he whispered.

The litany flew across the wind, like he was the one to put the blame into. Like if it existed someone to blame... 

Jense, not noticing how the act could be selfish, prayed to God take him too or instead, just to settle down the pain. But he had many people that needed him, his mother, his beautiful sisters... 

Crying in unison like two angels locked out of paradise, that night promised to be anguishily long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #RIPPapaSmurf


	20. 2014, part II - Misty

They hop on the truck, the habit of every Sunday pre-race. People cheer, hanging the most different kinds of signs and Seb points out.

"I'm happy here."

Jenson turns to the side, without having a clue of why such affirmation was made. "Excuse me?"

"I heard what you said. You crucify me in public, and love me privately, is that it?"

Reminiscing the previous declaration, it's his most fierce belief. "They put me out of context, I bet."

Refusing any explanation, Sebastian clearly distrusts.

"The media loves you, how is that possible?"

With enough disappointment, he walks to another part of the itinerant event, but serving a very cold shoulder.

Later, he would address the whole issue to Kimi, declaring he was starting a new book: "1000 ways that Jenson disappointed me." Kimister said he'd write the prologue on why they still were made to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this news' date and content: http://www.motorsport.com/f1/news/button-doesn-t-like-sound-of-vettel-s-critique/. All rights reserved to Motorsport.


	21. 2014, part III - Storm

Sebastian nodded in disagreement, while walking side to side, beverage in hand. He nervously gulps, laughing outside of anger.

"This theater is going too far. If I appear there, it won't cut. I will go for someone's throat."

Jenson attempted to catch the crystal goblet, failing miserably.

"Enough drinks for today, aren't we?"

An ignorant Sebastian spilled some of the Jager, tripping over the garden decorations. "Enough - ich - lies, huh?"

Jenson removes the weight from his chest with one sentence, words cutting like a sharp knife.

"You had a child and didn't told me. _Honestly_ , I don't get it".

Bursting in tears, he crawls on the ground, sincerely confessing. "I thought Hanna could help us to get closer with a child, like we were. It was a surprise."

"I was surprised on how you hide it from me. So yeah, congratulations, you did it."

"Thought you didn't do nothing to me?", Seb stands up with a certain difficult, seriously pointing to Jenson, raged voice raising. "What about Jessica? I hate it, I hate this situation..."

The crying becomes unbearable. Jenson can't stand anymore their secret affair, specially if it costs seeing Sebastian drunk, needy and mean. Doing a effort to abandon all the present confusion, the diplomatic side speaks louder.

"Don't be like this. Come her-".

Playing the hard way game, the comeback is scaring the british man. An explicit yell, pushing the older away.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

Crashing into thousands of dangerous pieces on the marble floor, it could righteously be his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by someone's wedding.


	22. 2015, part I - Lightning

All red everything.

Whether it was every driver's dream, why it felt... normal?

Whenever a situation ran out of benefits, he changed without fear and with plenty of humility on his heart.

The hair differently combed to one side, no "dumb highlights", like he used to call his crazy hairstyles.

A black journal.

Everytime the German's eyes came across the female's asian eyes, the questions were inevitable.

_Why?_

What she had, that he hadn't?

Did she know the trap she fallen into? By the ring she carried...

Who left who?

He never pressured Jenson to a relationship, to be official, or implored for symbols of their interlaced ways. "Let's call it off", "let's call it quits", "I want to break up". Such things never existed between the couple.

Some stolen kisses, random promises of change. Silent vacations from their personal paradises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Seb's arrival to the red team and a marriage.


	23. 2015, part II - Why, July?

Nice, France. The irony.

The wooden casket laid to reminisce anyone who had forgotten the sport was still risky.

He hugged the closest thing he had, by the hair, a hundred per cent sure it was Jenson.

Until a french accent salutes, carried by emotions. Romain.

The limit where pride becomes to be poison instead of medicine. The flaws commited together to a irreparable tragedy. The blue skies, blue painting every soul observing. The bells ringing, not for a union, but for a separation.

What if today is the last day to declare your love? What if your hands on the wheel meant also a road without return? What if your necessity to delay doesn't make nobody stay?

Drinking to despise the sorrows, their reconciliation couldn't wait for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #CiaoJules


	24. 2015, part III - Second in September

Months away from the last victory. Years passed from the older's last podium.

It's hard to erase what the job obligates (and writes with a permanent pen) you to remind of.

"Seb".

"Hey Jense", he responds, fiercely turning around.

"Send a big kiss to Matilda for me. Congratulations."

Secretly asking if he discovered alone or the gossip flew by, he smiles, still walking away, even if afar from the public eye.

"Thank you." He suddenly says, changing to a strident tone. "She looks a lot like you."

The sentence came naturally, however, he automatically censors himself, like he just said the most absurd thing.

Jenson gleams, autentically confirming.

"I think she looks good, then."

They stop the steps in a hidden corner without understanding what made them choose the location. A long pause takes the place, but the accent comes back, repeating the past idea. "Oh, don't forget to give my kisses."

"Which ones?"

"Kiss her here", he purely requests, smacking the tip of Seb's nose. "And here", he demonstrates once more, pecking the soft cheek.

Distinguishably sighing, Jenson is inclined, licking the lips.

"And this is for you."

Holding the two sides of his face, he takes a last look around and kisses affecionately Sebastian on the lips for a few seconds.

No resistance, no fights, no fussing. Just pink flesh against pink flesh, flashbacks going on inside their heads, gasoline and rubber pulverized in the air. When the aim grew into prolong the intimate moment, they were interrupted by Arrivabene's cough, conquered with cigarettes.  
  
"Jenson. You have one thing that needs to be on garage right now..."

Ridiculously blushing, Sebby looks down, like he always did, always does, always will when it comes to a teasing brit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this tweet's date and content: https://twitter.com/sebvettelnews/status/639820402206740483


	25. 2016, part I - Attack

A breezy afternoon engloves the monegasques, the riches and the bitches.

Laptop on the middle of the trio, cursor blinking on a blank page. A vanguardist Jenson gives direction to the text composition, typing.

"I think we can start like this: honestly, what we're doing in Formula..."

Sebastian slaps his forearm, hitting the delete key.

"No, we can't."

Sometimes the meeting's situations reminded Alex of bulliers in high school, picking the quietest teenagers to mock. The scene is sufficient to make him burst in laughter.

"We can respald our theory based on the survey's results."

"Perfect." Seb and Jenson approve in unison, after exchanging looks.

It's not like the austrian's tips aren't being heard. Pretty much the opposite, every time he tells them where to make better use of the available data, they pay crucial attention and execute it as told.

But there is an undeniable chemistry between the two drivers, a magical spark.

A thing Alex failed in explain, unconsiderating wives, girlfriends, he might count the "they romantically match" possibility, feeling like crazy for cogitate it.

In America, they call "third wheeling". In Europe, "play gooseberry". One way or another, the expression defined Alexander's impression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this news' date and its content: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sport/formulaone/article-3506474/Jenson-Button-Sebastian-Vettel-sign-open-letter-calling-Formula-One-remove-obsolete-ill-structured-decision-making-processes.html. All rights reserved to Daily Mail.


	26. 2016, part II - Defense

You don't need to have an account on social media to stalk certain people. When he finds out on the way to "home", unpleasantness takes over the younger's brain. Sebastian drops the bags on the sofa, frustration exhaling.

"Why do you put your opinion in everything? This isn't about you..."

Having a seat on his very own mansion, goes the viewpoint.

"You compromised Daniil's career. I don't know what you said, but you did. "

"Obviously I didn't."

In Jenson's vision, the "villain" switched sides, the issue stayed after all these years.

The way he was personally raised, the "don't forget when you point the finger, four are pointing at you" lessons were very different of the ambience Sebastian grew up.

Plus, their inflexibilities were making the discussions infinitely long.

"You did the same thing to Mark, crashing and compromising his race long ago, so yeah".

He dared to differ. "I mean, honestly, what I did was different."

"I won't give details, but isn't different, Seb..."

Doubting if he went crazy, while scanning Jenson's physiognomy, something mischievously changed. He swore the defenses justified themselves by the fact they were secretly together. 

"Are you and Kyvat dating?"

Just the possibility makes his stomach want to regurgitate every piece of the meal he ate. To visualize Jenson's lips pursuing other's lips caused nausea. A punch in the face would hurt less the 28-year-old German.

The newbie, the astonishing ~~German~~ Russian promise, innocent, pouty lips, having a mentor, a friend, then the foreplay. For Seb, he solved the puzzle, history repeated itself, with _someone else_ , he was scratched out of the picture. For Jense, Sebastian overreacted around a rookie error.

"It isn't fair. I think it's wrong."

"I think we should break up", he throws out, emphatically.

So abrupt that he stops for long seconds, digesting what he barely suggested. Jenson deeply desired he heard the wrong phrase, but no, he didn't. Just like the movies, Sebastian for short moments waited for the kiss, for the imploring, for a "sorry", for the "we can make it work" cliché.

For... nothing. 

"Fine by me", a weak voice agrees. First, John, then, a mysterious divorce. Now, Seb.

In all those years, the brit always left before the morning, he never  _was left_. That damaged more than he recognized, adding to the losses. L.A. better prepare for him, he's definitely back to gambling. To dating. To anything that numbs best the endless pain.

(...)

The taxist doesn't fancy to ask what it's the problem. The severe breakdown worries him the whole route until the airport.

He uses the rearview mirror to check himself, to notice eyes impossible to get redder, tears like spilled oil in white canvas.

It's the middle of dawn and he prays nobody notices him under the jersey and sunglasses on the airport lounge. When the plane approaches, Seb boards, in hopes the break up entirely dissolves in the ethereal athmosphere.

Little he knew the sensations would be eternal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by this tweet date and content: https://twitter.com/JensonButton/status/728134163606339584


	27. 2016, part III - Midfield

"Who is she?" Sebastian was analyzing with his sunglasses on.

"Bwoah", his best friend checked from a distance. "His new girlfriend."

How original, reminisced the last one. Rumour says we all got our Achilles' heel when it comes to passion. Skinny, long hair, social media addicted, considerable breast measure, upcoming model, well known in another location, not on a global level like him.

Who were they fooling? Didn't Jense remember how well they combined their ideas to a stunning manifest? Alex even joked about how it looked like a first lady/president thing... or never mind, you dumped him for good, hiding crossed fingers behind your back.

Kimi read the four-time world champion's expression like a kindergarten's book, elaborating the question in Finnish.

"Is he still running from you?"

Sebastian bluntly shrugs, tilting the head to wave at the incredible crowd. "I can't even hide it, right?"

In red uniform, he can not conceive to himself the right to sadness, impatient to get better soon. He, in white, with grey and black detailed clothes, doesn't understand love's form, or at least, pretends to move on. Away from each other, they became mere shells of themselves.

They still have GPDA, they still the got short geographic distance between Switzerland and Monaco.

They have destiny waving the green flag, not a checkered one.

_Fin (?)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to every single hit and/or kudos. This isn't the same without you <3
> 
> PS: If you're reading this and if your name is Sebastian Vettel or Jenson Alexander Lyons Button, you two have the potential of being the sexiest couple of this planet, you oughta know. 
> 
> "I know you're straight, I do  
> If you ever regret it, regret it with each other.  
> And, if possible, let me watch you"


End file.
